Rough Winds
by damnhowelll
Summary: Just when she'd given up hope, Emily had somehow managed to find herself in the company of PJ Liguori - the man she was so desperately in love with. But love and life wasn't always destined to run smoothly... Title inspired by Shakespeare's Sonnet 18.
1. A Beginning

**_Hello! This is my very first official fanfiction and if you're reading this then I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. It may be (probably is) quite shabby in some places so this is a bit of a "please forgive any mistakes" before-hand, just in case. I hope you enjoy this, and I'll be posting new chapters as often as I can. _**

**_Thank you x_**

**Chapter 1**

Scenery whizzed past at an alarming speed, the train being pulled closer to King Cross Station with every passing second. I had boarded this train 3 hours ago with the main objective of arriving at London in time for the annual Summer In The City event held at Alexandra Palace. The majority of the journey was spent in an attempt to make it appear less dull than it actually was, and this was achieved by constant conversation with the three friends accompanying me – Beth, Louisa and Sarah. The four of us were all avid fans and followers of too many YouTubers to name, in particular a group of young men aptly named, "The Fantastic Four", as that is what they were. Fantastic.

"Emily! We're almost there! Do you want me to grab your bag for you?" Beth enquired, abruptly pulling me from whatever trance I had gotten myself stuck into. She was only asking this as I was considered the shortest of the group. Well, 'considered', I was definitely the shortest out of my group of friends, and trying to reach things that were high up was most certainly attempted with great difficulty and being 18 – a legal adult! - this was quite embarrassing. Without question, I often didn't succeed.

"Yeah, sure," I responded, before adding, "..If you don't mind, of course." My manners were somewhat precious to me. You know, being English and all.

Beth grabbed my bag from the overhead compartment above our table, and passed it to me. Each of us hadn't brought much with us, for we were only planning on spending the day rather than the weekend as the hotels nearby were too expensive for us to consider. It was disappointing in a sense, but as long as I got to meet Dan, Phil, Chris and PJ I'm sure I'd recover from that loss.

It didn't seem like a long period of time at all before we had left Kings Cross Station and were boarding a bus that would take us directly to the event. Once sat down on the bus we got down to talking about some serious business.

"I think if I got to hug Phil I'd cry for 3 days straight and be emotionally troubled for about 7 months afterwards," Louisa admitted, her eyes filled with a loved up yet forlorn expression.

"But can you imagine hugging Dan?" Sarah interjected

"It'd nowhere near as good as hugging Chris. I bet he smells great. He looks like he smells great. Can somebody even look like they smell great? Because he sure does" Beth joined in.

"I don't think I really mind about hugging or touching PJ, as long as I'm able to look into his eyes. Even a second would be perfect." I expressed. There was a small fib in what I'd just said. A pretty obvious one too, but they didn't call me out on it. The conversation continued this way, swooning over the famous internet addicts, until we'd arrived where we needed to be.

It wasn't very hard to find the Palace, after all it was an incredibly large building that dominated the landscape atop a grassy hill. Upon reaching the Palace, we were all huffing and wheezing from the short walk up the hill. Bloody hell, we were unfit.

"Do you think we're here on time? We're not late? Or too early?" quizzed Sarah, the panic in her tone evident.

"By the look of the people around us, I'd say we're fine" I assured her.

And I was right. There were crowds of people already outside, mulling about, chatting, the excitement in their expression and voices unmistakable. The majority of people in attendance were young, between early teens and late twenties, with me and my friends, all being 18, falling right into the middle of that category.

"Shall we start then?!" Beth asked, tugging at my arm to try and drag me into the busy crowds of people.

Smiling widely at her, I responded with, "Ready when you are."


	2. An Escape

**Chapter 2**

3pm and the end of the day was looming closer than I'd hoped for. Our train back home was booked for 5pm, which devastatingly meant we had to leave the event at 4pm. In one hour. I had one hour to find, meet and talk to the people I most desperately wanted to. About an hour ago Beth and Louisa announced they were going to watch a talk on the main stage, whilst Sarah went off and explored. Being on my own wasn't a problem, as I was then able to do what I wanted without being distracted. Amongst our group of friends, I was known as the 'PJ girl', as he was the one I admired the most. His adoration for creativity inspired me to take up art again, as it was an old passion I'd long since forgotten about, and I was incredibly thankful to him for that. His humour was broad, there were childlike aspects but also darkness, and it intrigued me greatly. Of course, his looks were a plus. All I wanted to do now was find him and let him know this.

A quick bathroom check was in order before I attempted this tracking down mission, as I wanted to look my best if I was going to be in front of him. Taking my make-up out of my bag, I closely examined my appearance in the mirror of the dimly lit room. My long auburn hair had gone slightly mad due to the humidity, and my complexion was deathly pale. Not much of a difference to the usual then. Make-up was my ally and I used it to my greatest advantage, lipstick and winged eye-liner were very rarely not on my face because when it wasn't I looked like a chubby cheeked freckly 6 year old.

I fixed myself up and left the bathroom to start my mission. Where to start though? I had a quick look of the entire area I was in to see how I might be able to begin this task, but the brimming crowds of people made this difficult, so I decided to just set off in a random direction and let it lead on from there. Attempting to walk through these crowds was a mission in itself, as so many people seemed to lack basic manners and the ability to understand the phrase, "Excuse me". It didn't take long before I gave up hope and resolved that outside would be a better place to be, and upon realising this headed towards the nearest exit.

Once outside a quick glance at my phone informed me that I still had 37 minutes before I needed to meet back up with Beth, Louisa and Sarah at the main gate, so I decided to have a wander around the perimeter of the building to clear my head. I walked for what seemed an age, until I stumbled upon a lovely area that was full of trees and looked over miles and miles of the landscape..

Upon sitting down on the dry, thick grass, I took in my surroundings and it soon became apparent how full of life this area was. At the bottom of the hill was row upon row of Victorian age housing, and in the distance was the city of London itself. Yet from where I was, hidden from the crowds amidst the trees, it was peaceful and charming.

"Excuse me!" My head snapped away from staring wistfully at the landscape and instead towards the place in the trees where the voice had first come from.


	3. A Chance Encounter

**Chapter 3**

A tall figure emerged from the trees, heading in my direction. Great, even when I purposely avoid other human beings, they still manage to weed their way into my surroundings, thus obliging me to try and not be a horrendously awkward social creature. I fail, though. I fail every time.

The tall person must've been a boy, judging by his physique, clothing and deep voice. As he drew nearer I began to see that he was quite attractive. He had curly brown hair, a broad smile and his eyes were -

Shit. It was PJ. PJ Liguori. The one person I most desperately wanted to see but had given up all hope on meeting. Yet here he was, walking towards me. Why was out here by himself? Wasn't he supposed to be mingling with fans and having discussions?

"I, uh, I came out here for a phone call. I put my glasses down but now I can't find them again. Only problem is, I need my glasses to find my glasses. Do you mind helping me? I'm kind of stuck here" He chuckled. Well, at least I had the answers to my questions. I decided to stand up before responding to him, as a conversation with me sat on the floor may be considered a bit weird.

Stood up, I became aware of the incredible height difference between us. I was pretty much staring at his chest. In hindsight, the floor probably was a better place after all. I built up enough confidence to finally give an answer to his request.

"Silly question, of course I'll help you"

PJ grinned, and grabbing my shoulders he crouched down to my height, looked me in the eyes and thanked me with a deep sincerity.

"So, with me being the one that can actually see, shall I lead the way?" I suggested

"Yeah, that's probably best"

Now what he didn't know was that I was actually wearing contacts. My eyesight is terrible. Maybe I should recommend contact lenses to him? Oh god, what am I thinking, what a ridiculous thing to come out with.

"I was sat over there," PJ told me, pointing in the direction from which he'd originally emerged.

We walked the short distance through the trees until we reached the area in question.

"Be careful not to move too much without looking, because you might stand on your glasses, and then you're pretty much screwed" I informed him, laughing slightly at the end to try and edge off any seriousness that sentence may have implied.

"If that's the case it's probably best I just stand here and let you do the looking, before I cause any irreversible mass destruction" He said, flashing me a wide grin. God, he was so beautiful. Did he realise how much so? He must do, he must know what he does to girls when he smiles at them. PJ Liguori is a sadist, I'm certain of it.

It didn't take long to find the glasses, as they were black and large rimmed, reminding me an awful lot of the very pair that Buddy Holly wore. As I handed PJ the glasses, our hands brushed and I was sure I felt my heart skip a beat, or two.

"Oh my god, thank you so much!" He enthused, "If it wasn't for you I'd still be stumbling around, walking into trees"

I smiled up at him, our eyes meeting for a brief moment.

"It's fine, my pleasure. Can't have you wandering around aimlessly for hours, someone might take advantage!" I joked.

PJ smiled slightly, before staring intently at me.

"Are you a fan at all?" He quizzed

"Well I wouldn't be here if I wasn't." I responded. Damn it, Emily. What a rude and sarcastic thing to come out with. I wouldn't be at all surprised if he wanted to abandon the conversation and me now. But to my surprise, his expression wasn't one of shock (the usual expression people have on their faces after I speak), but one of amusement. He laughed, a deep, throaty laugh and I had to stop the butterflies in my stomach from escaping.

"You know, you've cured me of my blindness but I don't know your name. What is it?"  
"Emily. A great name, I know," I replied staring straight at him, pretty certain that a smile was irrevocably stuck on my face. "But, yes, I'm a fan. In fact it was your videos that made me want to take up art again"

This seemed to intrigue him slightly.

"Really? Why's that?"  
"Your creativity."

"Mine?" He seemed rather incredulous to this fact. "How come?"  
"It influenced me. I'd forgotten how much I'd enjoyed creating, and you helped me to remember" I admitted.

An unbelievable happiness lit up PJ's face.

"I never thought about that." He finally mused.

"Thought about what?" I inquired

"That I could inspire people through sitting at home, talking to a camera"

He seemed so genuinely bemused by this new information, yet so pleased at the same time.

He sat down on the grass below him, his face still deep in thought.

What do I do? Should I sit down next to him? Do I leave him to whatever he's mulling over in his mind? It's PJ after all. But it doesn't seem as though I'm meeting a person I strongly admire, it feels as though I'm just talking to a pleasant acquaintance. In the end it's PJ that makes the decision for me.

"Are you going to sit down?"

"Oh, uh, of course."

And there we sat, continuing our conversation.


	4. An Offer

**Chapter 4**

Unbelievable. Was this a dream? Surely, I was imagining this entire situation? PJ sat beside me, us having an interesting, and flowing conversation. We spoke about many different subjects, art, what we loved about it, how we were creative in our own way, he gave me advice and I gave him advice, we shared our music taste (despite it being rather similar) and the conversation continued with ease for what didn't seem like long at all until PJ's ringing phone snapped us out of it.

Grabbing it out of his pocket, he quickly looked at the screen and then back at me,

"Ah, I should probably get that" but his tone seemed unwilling.

A few seconds of silence passed, if you ignored the interrupting phone.

"Are you?" I asked him

He smiled apologetically before excusing himself, and hurried off to answer whoever was calling him.

With PJ momentarily gone I had a chance to recap on my thoughts and check back into reality. I decided to check my own phone, to see how long I had left until I had to go back. But when looking at the small, luminescent screen before me, I came to the harsh realisation that perhaps I might not be going back at all. It was 7:24pm. How the hell had I managed to let time slip so easily? Oh, wait, the answer to that is obvious and excusable. But still, the question lied in how I was going to be able to return home now. I hadn't brought enough money as the prospect of missing the train hadn't seemed plausible at the time. And the train from London to Sheffield was usually around £70. I could always ring my Mother and plead with her to lend me the money. Yes, that could work. But what if it doesn't? Trying to abandon this internal mental breakdown, I looked back at my phone only to notice that I had multiple missed calls and texts. Whoops. I never really was good at keeping in contact. Everyone knows this about me. Texts back are either immediate or hours, even days, late.

A loud and sudden 'thump' next to me lured me out of my thoughts.

"Everything alright?" PJ quizzed, and I almost thought I heard concern in his voice. My expression must be displaying my inward emotions pretty clearly right now, as I explained to him about the missed train, the lack of money, the slim chance of returning home.

"I think I'll ring my Mum. She'll probably put the money I need in my bank account and I'll wait at Kings Cross for the train I need to catch. Shouldn't be too much of a difficult task" I hoped so anyway.

PJ's brow furrowed, staring at me with an undecipherable look on his face.

"No, I can't let you do that" He asseverated.

"Why not? I'm capable of waiting for a train, I've done it plenty of times before" I replied, slightly agitated at his sudden decidedness.

"Yes, but alone? In London? Kings Cross of all places! It's so dangerous. And it's my fault that you missed your train. If it wasn't for me keeping you here talking then you'd probably be home by now"

"Well, I wouldn't be home. But probably pretty close" I laughed, trying to add a bit of light into this predicament.

But this didn't reassure him in any way shape or form, his expression was still one of great concern.

"You won't have enough money for a hotel either, will you?"

"I only brought a few pounds with me. I didn't expect this to happen." I muttered, the gravity of the situation weighing in, allowing me to see what a fool I truly was.

PJ looked away for a moment, towards the landscape I was admiring earlier in the day. A few minutes passed before he ran his hands through his hair and sighed sharply.

"Emily?"

I looked up to see him still staring at the scenery before us.

"Yes?" I asked, in an almost whisper.

"You're staying over at mine"

Wait, what?

"No, I can't. I'm not! That's an invasion of your space and besides we've only known each other a few hours. I could be a homicidal maniac for all you're aware" I spluttered, trying to keep the excitement that I really felt a secret.

He stopped staring at the spread out scene of London, and instead stared at me.

"I made you miss your train and I don't want you risking your safety trying to attempt to get back home all by yourself. You can stay with me tonight, ring your parents and friends, and tomorrow morning we'll figure out what to do. Okay?"He seemed completely adamant that this is how the situation was going to pan out and I wasn't going to question him either. He seems to have thought it out, and what other options do I have? He's right. It'd be dangerous waiting by myself for what could be hours. I don't know the city. I don't know how to catch trains efficiently, that was usually left to my friends. They're more organised and dependable. I do trust him, as much as anyone can trust somebody that is practically a stranger.

I smile weakly at him, "Okay."

PJ flashed that broad grin at me, before jumping up and offering me his hand.

"Ready then? Let's go"


	5. A New Experience

**Chapter 5**

It didn't take long for us to arrive at the flats where PJ lived, probably only around half an hour. I figured it wouldn't be too much of a walk to find my way to Kings Cross the next day, which was a relief.

During the car journey the conversation was brief, I presumed it's because he focuses a lot when he drives. But there seemed to be something more, a slight tension in the air, perhaps? I brushed it off as simple paranoia and instead focused on the passing streets, absorbing the bustling city and the architecture. Time passed quickly when focusing on your surroundings, and soon PJ had parked his car by the side of a block of flats.

"Well, this is it" he informed me.

I turned to look at him, and was greeted with his eyes meeting mine. They were such a magnificent colour, a shade of pale green that contrasted heavily against his tanned skin and dark hair. It was a truly striking feature, and perhaps the first thing a person would notice about him when stood in close proximity.

"Are you getting out of the car at all?" PJ laughed, which made me suddenly aware that I must have been staring at him far too intently and I turned away, blushing deeply.

"Of course, you lead the way" I replied, whilst pulling myself out of the small vehicle.

Inside the building we had to take a lift up to the fourth floor, which was where his flat was. I allowed PJ to walk in front of me for this short journey, after all, he did live here.

Turning the key in the lock, he quickly glanced at me and gave me a reassuring smile. I'm not sure if I can handle these spontaneous flashes of happiness anymore, for I'm certain that one too many will reduce me to nothing but a mumbling mess.

Opening the door, PJ gestured for me to enter first.

"After you" he encouraged.

The inside of his flat was quite spacious, but still had a cosy feel to it. Upon entrance there was a small corridor, and at the end of it was the living room. There was a television in the far left corner, with a settee directly opposite. Coffee tables at the side of the settee held various items, dirty mugs, games, doodled on paper, a few tatty books and a DVD. An archway at the right of the room directed you to a small kitchen. There was another corridor that led out from the left of the room, with doors dotted on each side. It was what I'd except from a young, single lad, especially one of PJ's standard.

He walked past me and began to pick up the mugs on the coffee table, and took them to the kitchen.

"I'm sorry about the mess," he shouted through to me, "I wasn't expecting to have a sleepover" and I heard him chuckle lightly.

"It's fine," I assured him, "My room's a disgrace. Puts this to shame. You'd never lose a game of 'The Floor Is Lava' in it"

PJ walked back into the living room grinning.

"You know, I might have to take you up on that"

"Take me up on what?" I asked, puzzled.

"The game! The Floor Is Lava! I'd say we could have a go at it here but I'm trying to be minimalistic so there's not much to jump around on, which means we'd be incinerated pretty much straight away"

'Minimalistic' he said. Minimalistic. There was nothing minimalistic about the books, plush toys, comics and DVD's scattered around but probably best not to call him out on it. He did say he was "trying".

"If that's the case, we should avoid turning the floor into lava at all costs. I want to return home alive, and not as burnt as Anakin Skywalker."

PJ laughed loudly at this comment, making me grin and blush simultaneously. A mixture that probably looked incredibly unattractive on my face. He walked towards to me, still laughing but almost inaudibly.

"You have dimples" He observed, his mouth twisted into a half smile

"Bane of my life" I murmured, sighing deeply.

"I don't see why you'd think that"

"I'm cursed to look forever younger than I actually am" I informed him

"It won't be a curse by time you hit 40. You'll be loving those dimples then!" He beamed

"If you say so, PJ"

His happiness was contagious. It was so incredibly difficult to not smile or laugh when in his presence. The more time spent with him, the more addictive he became. He was like a drug. The more you had, the more you wanted, and this made me fear the inevitability of having none of it at all.

My rumbling stomach brought me out of my semi-serious trance, and I realised how alarmingly famished I was. When was the last time I ate? Probably noon, which was a good 8 and a half hours ago now. I wasn't the only one that had heard my demanding stomach, as PJ immediately asked if I wanted something to eat.

30 minutes later, and we were sat on the settee in his living room, sharing a large pizza, and watching what he said was one of his favourite films. It was called 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind' and in summary was about a young couple, who were in fact also former lovers. Yet they were unaware of this, as at the end of their previous failed relationship, they both had their memories erased, thus forgetting everything to do with each other. But destiny soon had them back together. It was a charming, endearing story and I dare say it may have now become one of my favourite films. However, it was kind of difficult to focus on the entire film, as having PJ sat next to me for the duration of it was incredibly distracting. There were only a few inches of space between us, but I'd rather there be none at all.

"Are you tired? Do you want to sleep now?" PJ inquired as the credits rolled.

I hadn't realised that I'd been yawning.

"Yes, please" I whispered sleepily, whilst attempting to smile politely at him.

"You can sleep in my bed. I don't mind sleeping here tonight." He said, pointing towards the settee, "Do you have any pyjamas? Wait, what a stupid question. Of course you don't. You can wear one of my t-shirts if you want?"

My heart was doing about 100 beats a second, and I had to use all of my strength to stop it from jumping out of my chest.

"That's fine, thank you so much"

PJ smiled softly at me,

"You don't need to thank me, Emily."

He hurriedly leapt down the corridor, into one of the rooms, and returned within 20 seconds.

"That room I just came out of, that's mine. I've put one of my shirts on the bed for you." He announced.

Smiling widely at him, I thanked him once again with as much sincerity and honesty as I could muster.

"Goodnight, Emily." he whispered.


	6. An Unexpected Guest

**Chapter 6**

I was woken up slowly and peacefully by the light sneaking in through the curtains. PJ should probably get some better curtains, they let too much light in. Which kind of defeated the entire objective of them.

Sitting up, I allowed myself time to go through the events of the previous 24 hours, events that seemed improbable before. My parents and friends knew I was safe and okay as I spoke to them all yesterday evening whilst we were waiting for the pizza to arrive. However I did lie slightly, by saying I'd managed to find myself a hotel for the night. I didn't want them knowing I was staying overnight with someone I hardly knew (personally, anyway). My Mum was putting the money I needed into my bank account some time today, which meant tonight I'll be sleeping in my own bed. I'll be far away from London, far away from PJ and this entire situation will be nothing but a memory. He'll forget me soon enough, he's a busy person with a lot happening to him. Doubtful that he'd remember helping out a forgetful and silly girl... well, I'm nothing more than a fan really. A feeling of melancholy swept through me upon realising this. It was almost as if I was living in a fantasy, but I had to wake up some time sooner or later. And it was better to hurt a little at the beginning, then hurting a lot at the end.

I finally decided to drag myself out of the large, comfy bed, and made my self a tad more presentable for PJ. Pulling on the dark blue skinny jeans, black shirt with leather jacket combination I'd been wearing the day before, I left the bedroom. But something stopped me from walking any further down the corridor and into the living room. Voices. PJ's and another boy. It was a voice I recognised, but I couldn't quite figure out who as they seemed to be trying their hardest to be as quiet as possible. Yet it seemed like they were in disagreement with something. I tip toed a few steps closer, to try and hear what was being said. Eaves dropping isn't very good behaviour, I know, but there's something about the mystery and thrill of it that fills me with adrenaline. Odd, I'm aware.

"Do you even realise what a stupid decision that was though?" the mystery boy hissed, "What if the rest of the fans find out? You know how they'd react"

Were they talking about me?

"What would you have done in my situation? Just left her to be in potential danger? It was my fault that this situation happened in the first place." PJ responded, attempting to reason with whoever this person was.

Ah, yep, they were definitely talking about me.

"I still think it's a pretty fucking ridiculous thing to do"

"Okay, Dan"

Dan?! It was Dan Howell! The two boys had stopped talking, so I decided it best to make my entrance. You know, break any awkwardness there might be. But in the process probably just make the situation even more awkward and tense.

I strode confidently into the living room, announcing my presence with a grin and a "Good morning!". Both heads turned to look in my direction.

Dan was laid on the settee, and PJ was sat cross legged on the floor facing him. It almost reminded me of a bizarre counselling session.

"Morning?" PJ laughed, "It's afternoon now"

Shit.

"What time is it? It's not too late is it? Why didn't you wake me?" I asked, the words flying out at 100mph.

This only made PJ laugh more, but the look on Dan's face portrayed opposite emotions. I looked at him briefly, and he seemed to be trying his hardest to avoid any eye contact with me. This was surprising. I really didn't except this from him at all. Was he hungover? Or did he just not like me in the slightest? Trying to ignore this saddening theory, I glanced back at PJ waiting for my answers.

"It's about half one, not too late at all. And I did try at one point. But you told me to, 'Fuck off'" he replied, smiling widely, a breathy laugh escaping his lips.

Well I was glad he was smiling, because my face was no doubt expressing the purest of horror. Did I really say that to him? As if I wasn't embarrassing enough, I now know that I talk in my sleep and tell people to "Fuck off". And I had to find this out through PJ Liguori, of all people.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry. Did I really? I did _not_ say that consciously" I exclaimed.

"It's fine! Really. It made me laugh" he said in an attempt to reassure me. It did work a little bit. How could it not? His expression was so content and joyful that it made me feel so too.

"But you do realise if you tried waking me up before 10am, then you've got no one to blame but yourself" I joked

"Ah, that explains everything then. My apologies, madam."

"Apology accepted"

"Are you two quite done?" chimed in Dan, his interjection making me remember that he was actually there.

I decided to leave this to PJ, because I was sure any attempt at conversation I made with Dan would be ignored. Better not to even bother.

"Done with what?" PJ asked, confused.

"Doesn't matter" Dan drawled, turning on the television and watching what appeared to be Flog It!. He doesn't really watch this rubbish does he?

I made my way into the kitchen and PJ followed, offering me food and a lift to the train station. We decided it best to leave pretty much immediately, as there was a train directly to Sheffield in one hour. Before walking out of the door, I spoke to Dan for the first time since our meeting twenty minutes ago.

"Cya, Dan" I called with as much positivity as I deemed necessary.

He stopped facing the television, and instead fixed his gaze on me. His glare was intense and difficult to understand. What on earth had I done to offend him? It made me feel terrible, making me think that I should apologise to him for whatever it may have been. I didn't want to be considered a foe of someone I so greatly liked. The eye contact between us couldn't have lasted longer than 5 seconds, but it felt like an eternity. In the end, he didn't reply at all, and soon turned back to face the television.

PJ led me out of the building, and back to his car. However this time I walked next to him, slightly more confident in my understanding of where I was going, but also wanting to stay as near to him as I could before we parted.

As he started the car, and began to pull out of the car park, I looked back up to the window of his flat.

And I could swear I saw the curtain move.


End file.
